A Silent Night

It was a silent night as I sat looking at our Christmas tree and watching the snow fall outside. Wrapped in the warmth of my home, my thoughts traveled back to 2007 and 2010, when I knelt before the star marking the place of Jesus’ birth.

It was a cave visited by millions each year. I wondered then — and still do now — do those who visit this holy place take the love of Christ with them when they leave?

I am reminded of the lyrics from The Tiny Child to Bethlehem Came by Marty Haugen:

“The tiny child to Bethlehem came
That all of the world might turn
And care for ev’ry creature the same,
The way of compassion to learn.”

Compassion

In this season of gathering with family and friends, in a world torn by division, war, hurt, hunger, and homelessness, do we find the compassion that this tiny child brought us over two thousand years ago? How do we define compassion?

When I turned to a Google search, this is what I found:

“Compassion is a deep feeling of sympathy and sorrow for others’ suffering, combined with a strong desire to help alleviate it — moving beyond just empathy (feeling with) to action (acting for).”

This small child lying in a manger showed us the way to compassion and love for others. But do we act on this lesson? How do we move beyond feeling to doing?

Acts Matter

I see compassion lived out every day in small but meaningful ways: Someone helping another cross a busy street; a door held open; a generous smile paired with a “have a great day;” reaching for an item too high on a grocery shelf; gifts given with no expectation of return. These quiet acts matter.

This season — whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or another tradition — may we bring the gifts of compassion, love, and joy not only to our family and friends, but also to the stranger. For we were once strangers in an unknown land, with no room in the inn — only a manger in a stable.

May you be blessed with the joys of the season, and may the coming year bring health, peace, and hope.